Last fall, Jane Remover returned home to Chicago after a month on tour supporting rapper JPEGMAFIA and decided it was finally time for a break. At just 21, the musician has already had an astonishingly prolific career. They first caught the internet’s attention four years ago with their breakout EP Teen Week, released when they were only 17 and still living with their parents in New Jersey.

In 2021, Remover dropped their debut album Frailty, a dizzying journey through glitchy synths and crushed “digicore” vocals. Then, in 2023, they followed up with Census Designated, one of the year’s most striking albums, inspired by a blizzard-filled road trip. The record marked a bold shift into shoegaze-infused indie pop, putting their expressive vocals front and center. (And that’s not even counting their side projects under the names Leroy and Venturing.)

Given their relentless output, it’s no surprise Remover’s plan to take a break didn’t last. “I was like, ‘You know what, let me take a break,’ and then I did the exact opposite,” they admit with a laugh over Zoom from New York. “I was like, ‘You know what, let me make two albums.’”

The first, Ghostholding, came out in February under their Venturing alias, expanding on the avant-rock sound of Census Designated. The second, Revengeseekerz, dropped unexpectedly this week—a thrilling return to the chaotic style that first put them on the map. The lead single, “JRJRJR,” is a furious burst of glitching synths and anarchic lyrics: “Feel like Jesus in the mosh pit / Mary on the cross with her friends.” If Census Designated was serious and introspective, Revengeseekerz sounds like throwing a Nintendo 64 into a nuclear reactor.

Remover says the album came to them almost effortlessly. “I had entire songs in my head,” they explain. “When I was writing ‘JRJRJR,’ I could hear it perfectly from start to finish. I just had to bring it to life. That’s why this album was so easy—every song was crystal clear in my mind. I knew exactly how long they should be, how they’d start and end. It was like being psychic.”

But beneath the album’s explosive energy lies something darker. Lyrics about pushing their body to the limit on tour (“Fadeoutz”) or a doomed romance framed as a cosmic battle (“Angels in Camo”) reveal a raw, angrier edge. (Remover came out as a trans woman in 2022 and more recently began using they/them pronouns.) When I suggest the album feels more upbeat than Census Designated, they quickly correct me: “I’d describe this album as blind rage, almost.”

Was making it cathartic, then? What fueled that rage? “There are times when I’m mad at literally everyone,” they admit. “My fans, my peers, people in my life, all my relationships. When I’m mad at one thing, I’m mad at everything all the time.” Remover pauses, collecting their thoughts.They ran a hand through their shaggy black curls, lost in thought. “Obviously, I don’t consider myself an angry person—I rarely even act on my anger. This album feels like the result of bottling everything up—it’s a release.” That sounds healthy, I suggest—like something a therapist would recommend. “I wouldn’t know,” they deadpan. (For all the righteous fury in Jane Remover’s music, they also have a sharp, playful wit.)

A year ago, you could have mapped Remover’s career as a steady arc toward maturity. You could trace the path from the chaotic, hyper-online electronic sound of their early work—spanning goofy meme rap to the sample-heavy “Dariacore” genre they invented—to the more polished indie rock of Census Designated. “I mean, I literally branded it that way,” Remover says, raising an eyebrow. “I was like, ‘It’s time for me to grow up.’ Mind you, I was 19.” Revengeseekerz, however, deliberately complicates that narrative. Even if the sound echoes their earlier work, it’s not a step backward—it’s progress, fueled by the confidence Remover now has in their craft. “Compared to my first album, that one was about being a kid. This time, it’s a return to those old sounds, but with everything I’ve learned since then.”

The timing feels right, too. The genre-blurring sound Remover helped shape—rooted in 2000s emo but filtered through the glitchy energy of 2010s hyperpop—seems on the verge of breaking into the mainstream, thanks to rising artists like Brakence, Glaive, Ericdoa, and newcomer 2hollis. But for Remover, it’s less about the scene and more about embracing a sound they once dismissed. “I used to take myself way too seriously,” they admit. “I thought I was somehow above the sound I started with. But who cares? I like it. So I decided to stop fighting it—because that wasn’t getting me anywhere.”

Remover has a reputation for disowning their past work, often deleting songs or openly criticizing their old experiments. (They even reference it on “JRJRJR,” with a line about rehearsing songs they hate in Silver Lake, “trying not to cry.”) So what changed? “I’m just more confident now,” they say. “I think it comes with age. I’ve always second-guessed myself, but this album is the first time I’ve felt sure about something.” They’ll always cringe at their past work a little, but they’ve found a solution: “I realized the trick is to just drop more music,” they say with a wry smile. “Keep putting stuff out, and you can drown out the things you don’t like.”

That newfound confidence also shines in the fully realized visual world they’ve built around Revengeseekerz. The striking album cover shows Remover in a leather jacket, kneeling before a flaming sword, while the “JRJRJR” video features them in sleek all-black outfits, wielding a gun, smoking a cigarette, and waving a massive white flag. Where they once outsourced their visuals, this time, they took full control.Taking a more hands-on approach, Remover teamed up with musician and artist Parker Corey to craft a time-warped aesthetic universe blending glitchy camcorder footage and Gothic lettering. (Unsurprisingly, Remover handled the video editing themselves.)

Photo: Athena Merry

They also aimed to elevate their fashion game: “It’s definitely a step up from before,” they say, laughing about how their old uniform—a white tank top and blue jeans during the Census Designated era—became a meme among fans. “I’ve got money now, so I can actually buy cool stuff instead of just wearing hand-me-downs,” they add, pointing to the Hood By Air jacket from the “JRJRJR” video and a pair of Walter van Beirendonck boots they’re obsessed with. “I wear them all the time because they make me feel tall—when I go to a show, I can just chill in the back and still see the stage.”

It’s a fitting metaphor for where Remover is now. Once content working in the shadows, they’re ready to step into the spotlight—owning the fact that while their music was shaped by the internet, it now thrives in the real world. (Just watch a few seconds of footage from one of their chaotic live shows to see the dedicated fanbase in action.)

“For a long time, I kinda hated being called an ‘internet artist’ or having my music labeled as ‘internet music,'” Remover admits. “But now I get it—this music is a product of the internet. It’s very online, for lack of a better term, but that doesn’t mean people don’t connect with it in real life.”

Their sound is as bold as ever—raw, darkly funny, and sometimes deliberately abrasive—but if their audience grows, it’ll be on their own terms. “I can celebrate things now instead of worrying,” they say. “My mom used to tell me, ‘This could all disappear tomorrow. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.’ But like—girl, I have no other skills besides this.” Remover laughs. “Now I know I was meant to do this.”